


my darling(i fear)

by ophde



Series: i carry your heart with me(i carry it in [1]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-15
Updated: 2013-09-15
Packaged: 2017-12-26 15:36:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/967653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ophde/pseuds/ophde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>here is the deepest secret nobody knows</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>"oh shit," kasamatsu says blankly, halfway through a long, boring lecture given by a long, boring teacher (this is an entirely accurate assessment of iemoji/ieyoshi/whatever-senpai, who bears an entirely unncanny resemblance to a horse), suddenly sitting bolt upright in his chair. "i think i accidentally gave my heart to kise."</p>
            </blockquote>





	my darling(i fear)

**Author's Note:**

> written for bps challenge #36, amnesty round (more specifically: challenge #6, poetry); from [the poem by e. e. cummings](http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/179622).
> 
> the fact that there is no capitalisation whatsoever in this fic is as homage to the poet himself. seriously. it's totally not because i typed this up at two in the morning and ended up too tired to continuously press the shift button, no siree.

> _here is the deepest secret nobody knows_

 

"oh shit," kasamatsu says blankly, halfway through a long, boring lecture given by a long, boring teacher (this is an entirely accurate assessment of iemoji/ieyoshi/whatever-senpai, who bears an entirely unncanny resemblance to a horse), suddenly sitting bolt upright in his chair. "i think i accidentally gave my heart to kise."

moriyama - who’s in the middle of taking an illicit swig out of the flask he smuggled into class whilst the teacher’s back is turned - spits water (no, seriously, it’s literally just water) all over his desk. ugh, why are they not allowed to drink in class again? wait, it's probably because it leads to situations like this. fuck, his notes are soaked.

"what the _hell_ ,” he chokes out before he notices how their teacher’s stopped yakking on and on. and he's turning around. he's going slightly bug-eyed trying to glare at moriyama and kasamatsu at the same time. he's descending upon them with all the fury of a self-absorbed asshole interrupted in the middle of a long tirade on a subject no one else gives a shit about. why is moriyama being so uncharitable.

oh, fuck. because he’s totally screwed, that's why. (but not as screwed as kasamatsu. what on earth was he _thinking_ , giving his heart to kise?)

moriyama takes a few deep breaths whilst kasamatsu slumps lower and lower down in his chair, head drooping dangerously close to the desk. he seems to have entirely run out of steam after that outburst, which is a bit weird, considering moriyama has seen him yell continuously at kise for far longer stretches of time. maybe that's just how he shows affection, though, and now he's realised exactly what all that hollering actually meant on his part, he's probably exhausted from the emotional revelation.

_what the hell_ , he thinks again, but this time he’s feeling philosophical rather than aghast and incredulous and asphyxiating on his own spit. the teacher just keeps bearing down upon them, and he's kind of exhausted from the emotional revelation as well, second-hand as it is, so he may as well go all out.  _in for a penny, in for a pound_ ; is that how it goes?

he takes a deep breath, psyching himself up for what he’s about to do. it's probably not the best way to start his first year at uni, and this teacher is only going to hate him forever, but oh well. needs must.

“ _are you a fucking idiot,_ " he wails suddenly, knowing full well that their teacher - and, in fact, most of their class - can hear him. he can actually see a few of them jump, the eavesdroppers. or does it really count as eavesdropping if you can't help but overhear? whatever, he has an entirely justifiable tirade to launch into. "why would you do that, you utter imbecile, are we even talking about the same kise? you know, kise ryouta, model and basketball player and ladies’ man extraordinaire, i mean, seriously, i’ll happily admit that he’s even better with girls than i am. kasamatsu yukio. _kasamatsu yukio_. you are _so stupid_.”

kasamatsu doesn’t even seem to be listening to him. he just buries his face in his hands, looking like he just about wants to sink straight through the floor and the earth’s crust in one fell swoop and die a fiery death in the planet’s iron core - although going by the way the backs of his ears are slowly turning a shade of scarlet never before seen in nature (it’s kind of a fascinating process, to be honest), he won’t actually need to go to such lengths in order to experience a miraculous and spontaneous combustion.

moriyama breathes in again, about to let loose a litany of swear words, the sum of which can be loosely summarised as: jesus fucking christ, kasamatsu. before he can go at it again, though, he notices that kasamatsu seems to be chanting something under his breath, and leans forward to catch exactly what he's saying. man, he sure hopes it’s not some continuous stream of dirty talk. he really doesn’t need to know what kasamatsu thinks about whilst he’s jerking off to kise’s centrefold spreads or whatever, that’s all he’s saying.

"moriyama, shut up. shut up, moriyama," kasamatsu mutters, which, huh. maybe he had been listening to him all along. moriyama shoots a glance at the students around them; from their faces, everyone has been listening to him all along. including the teacher. crap.

a menacing shadow falls across moriyama’s desk; he’s almost too scared to look up, even though he knows he’s totally up shit creek without a paddle (but not as much as kasamatsu, thank god. he knows he’s already said it once, but seriously: what on earth was he _thinking_ , giving his heart to kise?) he gulps once or twice or three times, cursing the fact that kasamatsu made him spit out all his water (ugh, his notes are so totally ruined) when he notices just how dry his throat is. the shadow continues to loom threateningly in front of him, and shit, he can’t put this off forever. sometimes he just has to pull on his big boy pants and bite the bullet.

so, reluctantly, ever so relunctantly, he raises his head inch by painful inch, until he’s looking his teacher in the eye.

“ _kise ryouta’s centrefold spreads_ ,” the teacher repeats, slow and infuriated and dangerous like a poked bear and. um. maybe he’d just said all of that out loud. oh god. _i'm so sorry, kasamatsu,_  moriyama mouths to no one in particular, not even the man himself (after all, he's still not looking at anyone, face firmly planted in his hands) as he watches the progression of the blotchy flush crawling up their teacher’s neck in morbid fascination. it really does match the colour of kasamatsu’s cheeks (that particularly unnatural shade of red that has since spread from behind his ears and infected the rest of his face), he thinks vaguely, and hopes to high heaven that he did not say that out loud too.

 

 

 

moriyama decides three minutes into detention that, actually, this is all kasamatsu's fault, and then proceeds to glare daggers at the back of kasamatsu's head for the next ten minutes. look at it this way: if kasamatsu hadn't randomly had his little emotional epiphany during class, then moriyama wouldn't have choked on his water, wouldn't have ruined his notes (although that does give him a good excuse to go up to a cute girl and ask her for her notes; huh, sometimes kasamatsu even makes a half-decent wingman), wouldn't have got detention, etc. etc. ad infinitum. he’s sure he could totally drill a hole through kasamatsu’s skull if he just concentrates hard enough, but because moriyama’s totally open to all possibilities, he also tries sending telepathic messages like _u r an idiot_ and _y r u such an idiot_ and _kise??? why kise???_ also he’s not entirely denying the possibility that, when it comes to that last missive, he’s also trying to get across a general sense of _why not me??? i’m totally more awesome than kise. if you're just giving away your heart like that, i'd be a far better candidate for its safekeeping. u idiot._

he’s just about to give up in his endeavours when he finally receives acknowledgement from his previously unresponsive audience of one. “what,” kasamatsu hisses at him through the side of his mouth, eyes darting warily to the teacher at the front of the room like that is totally unsupicious. whatever, they’re already in detention, it’s not like it can get much worse.

also, moriyama totally knew he had magical powers. or eye lasers. or magical powers _and_ eye lasers, man oh man.

“ _what_ ,” kasamatsu hisses again, louder this time. he actually sounds kind of annoyed, which should be a good thing, right? he’s totally gone through denial (read: throughout the entirety of his last year at kaijou), he's just about wrung that particular rag dry, so it’s about time he achieved any measure of anger about this particular situation. or, wait, did he experience anger and denial concurrently last year? that'd explain why he kept shouting at kise all the time: unresolved sexual tension. ew, that's a _nasty_ mental image he's coming up with, so moriyama makes sure that particular train of thought comes to a swift and screeching stop. also, there's a vein popping in kasamatsu's forehead, so he better actually say something.

“ _kise ryouta_ ," he sputters. he thinks those two words pretty much encapsulate everything that’s wrong with the entire circumstances of this conversation.

"oh my god," kasamatsu groans, sighing explosively, the words tripping over each other in their haste to get the fuck out of his near vicinity. "all i did was give him was my second button." and, fuck, moriyama thought they’d gotten past denial already. at this rate kasamatsu’s never going to get to acceptance before he turns old and wrinkly, not that he isn’t wrinkly already, what with all the premature frown lines; moriyama is proud to say that he knows for certain that he put two of those on kasamatsu’s forehead, and can lay a tentative claim to at least three more. "i didn’t know that meant i’d accidentally presented him with my whole heart on a platter."

“but _why did you give him your second button in the first place_ ," moriyama says plaintively. god, he really needs to be paid more to deal with this. they're totally going out to pick up girls tonight, and if kasamatsu whines, moriyama's just going to glare judgmentally at him. with extreme prejudice. "there wouldn’t be an issue if you hadn’t given him your second button at all. everyone _knows_ how easy it is to make that second button your heart, it’s the whole point of the second button, it’s imbued with all the ardent and passionate emotions from the springtime of your youth; there’s a reason why you only give it someone you’re absolutely sure about. and you are absolutely _not_ sure about kise. god, kasamatsu. why. _why_.”

he feels like he’s making an entirely valid point, but the hangdog expression falls right off kasamatsu’s face. to be honest, it makes moriyama feel a lot better; at least he’s looking a little more normal now. “i gave it to him because he _asked_  me for it,” he replies with a scowl and the slightest hint of colour just brushing across the top of his cheeks, then refuses to speak to moriyama for the rest of detention.

_**well**_ , moriyama thinks, and he feels himself start to smile. that changes everything.

 

 

 

("kise ryouta's centrefold spreads," iemochi says to himself with a huff of laughter, shaking his head. his students this year really are quite something.)

 


End file.
